


The Future Is Not Like It Used to Be

by FanchonMoreau



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:09:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27443926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanchonMoreau/pseuds/FanchonMoreau
Summary: And there she was. Donna Noble, leaning effortlessly against the open cell door. She looked just as the Doctor remembered her from the day they tugged the Earth back to its proper place in the universe.The Doctor needed someone to rescue her from the Judoon. The person who showed up was not who she expected.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Donna Noble
Comments: 9
Kudos: 37
Collections: Femslash Exchange 2020





	The Future Is Not Like It Used to Be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheseusInTheMaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/gifts).



> Hope you enjoy, femslash ex friend! Takes place right after Series 12.

The only way out was to be rescued. 

The Judoon confiscated the sonic and took her clothes and everything in her pockets. The red jumper and trousers they gave her were filthy. The Judoon had no intention of cleaning them, at least not that she can see. 

It was inhumane, but then again, she was not human.

She resorted to drawing on the walls. At first it was just tally marks to count the days, or maybe the hours—the Doctor wasn’t sure. She tried not to let it bother her. It was just another thing to add to the worlds and worlds that she’d forgotten. 

Eventually, she switched to stick figures. She labelled them in careful block letters: Yaz, Graham, Ryan. Bill, Clara, Amy, Rory, River. Donna. She stopped there and tried to think of the name of the man who was with her former self, the one married to Ruth in Gloucester. The companion that Gat killed. 

“What was his name?” she cried out into the empty cell. “Luke? Lee? _Liam!_ ” She wrote LIAM on the wall and underlined it three times. She stepped back and studied her work. Liam? “No, that’s not right,” she muttered, and she hurriedly rubbed the letters away with the heel of her hand. 

Larry was absolutely wrong. Leopold? No, that was a king of Belgium. Could it have possibly been Leonardo? Could she not even remember this? 

It was _her_ who had brought him there, after all. In a life was hers, but also wasn’t hers at all. 

She sunk to the floor of her cell, making herself as small as she could manage. There was a stubborn part of her convinced that if she tried hard enough, if she was clever enough and strong enough, she could break through centuries of the Time Lords’ exploitation and abuse and remember everything.

She looked over to her row of stick figure friends. Donna stared back. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “You have no idea how much.” 

Donna used to call her spaceman, she remembered that much. _Great big outer space dunce._ She rested her cheek next to stick figure Donna and closed her eyes.

* * *

“Blimey, you look awful.” 

The Doctor tried to lift her head from where it landed on her shoulder, but she could barely move. Besides, this had to be a dream. That voice—well it simply wasn’t possible. 

There was no one there, the Doctor told herself. It was nothing but her broken mind playing a cruel trick. She’d open her eyes, and the cell would be empty. She would count to three and wake up, and be alone again.

One… two… _three!_

And there she was. Donna Noble, leaning effortlessly against the open cell door. She looked just as the Doctor remembered her from the day they tugged the Earth back to its proper place in the universe.

But _how?_

“This is a dream,” said the Doctor. “You can’t be real.” 

Donna chuckled. “I don’t think so. If I’m a dream, I wouldn’t have a sense of smell. And let me tell you, you absolutely reek.” 

The Doctor just gaped in response. Donna was back on Earth, and if she remembered anything at all, it would burn her up. And she could never survive it. 

Unless, of course, whatever saved Donna was something still in the Doctor’s future. But she had never allowed herself that kind of hope. Not about Donna Noble. 

“So if you’re not a dream,” the Doctor began, squinting up at Donna, “then how did you get in? How did you even get on this planet?” 

Donna winced, and then stuffed her hands into the pockets of her long leather coat. She looked pensive, even a little sheepish, which wasn’t like her. “The thing is,” she said, “I can’t answer your questions. Think you know why.” 

“Spoilers,” the Doctor offered quietly. She thought back to first encountering River’s diary. _If she’s from your future, why didn’t she know me_ , Donna had asked. And the Doctor, like the perfect, arrogant idiot she once was, said: _I can look you up._

Donna gave the Doctor a conciliatory half-smile, but she couldn’t quite look her in the eye. The Doctor wondered if she too was remembering the library. Could she remember every shadow, every loss, as clearly as the Doctor could? 

“Yeah, you know the drill,” Donna said. She was still smiling, but there was a soft note of sadness in her voice, wistfulness. She reached deep into her pockets, fumbled around a bit, and pulled out the Doctor’s shirt, trousers, and suspenders.

Donna’s pockets were bigger on the inside. Well, the Doctor thought. Donna’d come a long way from the woman in the wedding dress, she could tell that much. 

Donna folded the clothes haphazardly and placed them in front of the Doctor. “Cleaned them up and everything. Has your fashion sense actually _gotten worse?_ ” 

“Shut up,” the Doctor muttered, but she was grinning. Donna remembered the pinstripes and the Converse, at least. The Doctor started unbuttoning the red prison shirt. “A little privacy, if you don’t mind?” 

Donna scoffed, but she turned around. “Do I have to stop calling you spaceman now?” she asked. The Doctor threw her shirt over her head and laughed to herself. “Does it have to be, like, spacewoman?” Donna continued. “Space _chick,_ is that a thing? Because, no offense, but I’m not calling you spacechick.” 

The Doctor finished dressing and spun around so Donna could see. Donna looked at her and smiled. “All right, Martian man… woman… whatever.” Donna said with a roll of her eyes. She took a deep breath, as if to steady herself. “It’s really you.” 

_The one and only_ , the Doctor almost replied, but she couldn’t quite manage it. Donna knew her in the future, but she didn’t know this body, that much was clear. Who was she when she saved Donna Noble? And at what cost? 

She pushed those questions to the back of her mind. _Spoilers._

“It’s really me,” the Doctor said. She took a step forward. “And spaceman is… spaceman is great. Spaceman is brilliant.” She could feel tears welling up, and she tried to keep them back. There was still a chance this was a dream. 

Donna’s face softened. “Yeah, it’s brilliant. Spaceman,” she said, trying it out. She laughed. “Reckon it still works. You should check your pockets, spaceman.” 

The Doctor leaned forward and shoved both her hands in her pockets. Her eyes widened. Sunglasses. Psychic paper. _Sonic._

She beamed. “Donna Noble. Donna NOBLE! Donna Noble, I could kiss you on the mouth.” 

The Doctor braced herself for the joke she knew was coming. She wanted to hear Donna Noble mock her for even suggesting such a thing. Maybe she’d even say _you give this one a hug, you get a papercut_ one more time. 

But Donna just shook her head. “Wouldn’t be much of a rescue mission if I didn’t rescue you.” 

The Doctor studied her. Not even a sarcastic remark. That didn’t feel right. “I’ve had worse,” the Doctor quipped halfheartedly. 

Donna reached back into her pockets and pulled out the Doctor’s shoes, the Doctor’s earring, and--the Doctor nearly gasped at this—a vortex manipulator. She held it up and then slid it on her wrist. “All right then, spaceman,” she said. “Where to?” 

She should say Sheffield, 2020. She should go right back to pick up Ryan, Graham, and Yaz. She knew that Donna wouldn’t be jealous of her new friends; if anything, Donna would be worried if she hadn’t found new friends. But Donna was here, and, so far she could tell, she was _real._ And she remembered. 

“Donna Noble,” the Doctor declared, “surprise me.” 

* * *

They landed on a beach with golden sands and black waters. The Doctor could tell it wasn’t Earth, but beyond that she had no idea where they were. She turned to Donna, feeling a bit helpless.

Donna shrugged. “I set it to random.” 

The Doctor kicked up some of the sand, and it gathered around her in a brilliant gold cloud. Lustrous, like the metal, like gold flakes falling. “No idea at all?” the Doctor asked. 

Donna checked the vortex manipulator, and then held it up to her ear and shook it. Like a cocktail shaker, the Doctor thought. “I dunno, it just says _buffering_ ,” Donna said. 

“ _Buffering_ ?” the Doctor repeated, aghast. She took out the sonic and scanned the black ocean. _Buffering._ That’s what it said on the sonic. “What does that mean, _buffering_ ,” she muttered. 

“Maybe it’s the name of the planet,” said Donna. 

The Doctor considered that for a moment. The star above them was shining pure white light. She didn’t know of any planet quite like this. Maybe this really was a dream. 

“Do you mind if I get changed?” Donna asked. She opened her leather coat and pulled out a bright blue swimsuit and a matching sarong from one of the inner pockets. The Doctor chuckled to herself. Donna Noble, always prepared for a day in the sun. “I don’t know if we can swim but it’s gorgeous here.” 

The Doctor squinted up at the sky. Perfect, cloudless blue. “Sun could be toxic,” she pointed out. But then she heard some rustling behind her and saw that Donna had already found some tall grass to change in. 

“Oi! Don’t look!” Donna shouted. 

The Doctor turned away. She wriggled her toes a little in the golden sand, and she let one, and then both, of her suspenders drop from her shoulders. The black water was still, but it smelled of salt and magnesium, just like Earth’s ocean waters. She walked up the edge of the water and dipped just her big toe in. It was warm. She bent down and scooped a little bit of the water into her hands.

If she tasted it, she could figure out where they were. She brought her hands up to her mouth and lapped up some of the water. 

“You’re completely disgusting.” 

She spun around and saw Donna, now in her swimsuit, laughing as she tied her sarong around her waist. “It’s actually a little reassuring,” Donna admitted. “Thousand years later and I can still recognize you.” 

A thousand years? In her timeline or Donna’s? When were they? Where were they? The water didn’t taste like anything other than ocean water, Earth ocean water. There were a few theories just starting to percolate in her brain, and she could share them with Donna. But she didn’t know how much Donna knew about the universe or time travel now. She didn’t even know if Donna was still human. 

“I have so many questions,” the Doctor breathed. 

Donna smiled sadly. “I know, spaceman. I know.” 

“And you really can’t answer them?” asked the Doctor. 

Donna sighed, and then looked out over the serene black water. “I really can’t.” 

Just then, a freezing wind out came from nowhere and nearly blew the Doctor off her feet. For a moment, it sounded like it was whispering something, and then _screaming_ something, but the Doctor couldn’t make it out. No TARDIS translation circuit. 

The Doctor ran down the shore, trying to follow the sound. “Did you hear that?” she called back to Donna. 

Donna didn’t move. “Hear what?” 

The Doctor tried to run back to her, but she was suddenly breathless and dizzy. She could hear the wind roaring in her ears, even though she knew it was long gone. Donna was so close but before the Doctor could reach her, something shifted beneath her and she collapsed head-first into the golden sand. 

She blinked a few times, and Donna’s face swam into view above her. “You all right down there?” Donna asked. “You looked like you flipped all the way over.” 

The Doctor let out a big breath. She sat up slowly, reoriented herself in space, and started brushing the golden flakes of sand off her trousers. Donna was eyeing her curiously, and the Doctor couldn’t really tell what she was thinking. 

She just felt so far away. 

“You sure you didn’t hear it?” the Doctor asked quietly. “The wind. It was saying something.” 

Donna frowned and shook her head. She undid her sarong and lay it out on the sand, gesturing for Doctor to join her. The Doctor slid back on her bum, dusted the last of the sand off her skin, and sat down. The wind would come back, and, then they’d figure out what it was together. Just like they used to.

The Doctor gave Donna the biggest smile she could muster. “You know what it reminded me of?” she asked brightly. “The Ood! The Ood and their song of Donna Noble.” The Doctor paused, letting the memory wash over her. _Our children will sing of the Doctor Donna._ “I think about the Ood a lot, you know.” 

Donna’s frown deepened. She ran her fingers through the golden sand and then cupped it in her palms. “I don’t remember that,” she said to her hands. “I don’t remember all of it. It’s like... it’s like a record that skips. It’s like I’m there with you and then nothing” 

The Doctor immediately reached for her sonic. She wanted to scan Donna, to see what her brain looked like, to see what was still forgotten. To see if she was still human. But as soon as she saw the tears that were beginning to spill down Donna’s cheek, she stopped. 

The Doctor was better than that. She had to be. 

“I think I understand,” the Doctor whispered. 

Donna barked a disbelieving laugh. The Doctor looked into her red-rimmed eyes and silently pleaded with her: _can you trust me?_

“I want to show you,” the Doctor began cautiously. She lifted her hands to Donna’s temples, and Donna flinched. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” she said. “I get it. But listen, I’m showing you me, yeah? My mind. Because I was so, _so_ stupid before, and I see it now. More than I could tell you. So will you let me show you?” 

The Doctor reached for Donna’s hands. Donna hesitated, tears still falling, and then nodded her assent. The Doctor leaned their foreheads together and waited for a sign, anything, to tell her Donna was more comfortable. She could feel Donna’s tears dotting both their cheeks.

The Doctor took a deep breath. “It’s the _nothingness_ that’s the worst,” she said. Donna’s eyes snapped up to meet hers. “You think there should be an image you could remember, or a feeling, but there’s nothing, just white, blank, everywhere.” 

“Yeah,” Donna said numbly, “Just nothing.” 

The Doctor moved her hands to Donna’s face, letting them linger near her temples. “I won’t touch your mind. I _swear._ But—can I let you into mine?” 

Donna lowered her eyes. Perhaps, the Doctor thought, it would be better for her to say no. To say no, leave her here, and never speak to her again. That might be what she would do, in Donna’s place. 

“All right, spaceman,” Donna whispered. “All right.” 

The Doctor touched her temples and let her in. And before she could really control it, she plunged them both deep into her mind. Everything the Master told her—the Timeless child, the regenerations with Tecteun, the Time Lords stealing her DNA, the forced service, the memory wipe after memory wipe. The meeting with Ruth. 

_I like her,_ Donna said in her head. _I wish I could have met her._

 _I wish I could remember being her,_ the Doctor thought back. 

When it was over, the Doctor cleared her mind the best she could. She knew it was time to break the connection, but she didn’t want to let go of Donna’s presence in her head. 

_Are you okay?_ Donna asked. 

She really wasn’t. Thing was, she’d shouldered thousands of years of losses. But the loss of _herself—_ she didn’t know how to carry that. 

_So Time Lord all right,_ Donna thought in the Doctor’s mind, as clearly as if she were speaking. _Meaning not all right at all._

 _You remember_ , the Doctor thought. And then she brought Donna back to the memory. Donna taking her hand and leading them back to the TARDIS. So incredibly understanding. So kind. 

As gently as she could, the Doctor broke the mental connection. She lowered her hands and waited for Donna to speak. She wasn’t sure she had earned Donna’s understanding this time around.

Donna was quiet for a while. She stared at the Doctor, and then at the water, and then back at the Doctor again. And then she said: “So if you’re not really from Gallifrey, couldn’t you technically still be from Mars?” 

The Doctor blinked. She was shocked into silence for a few moments, and then her whole body started heaving with laughter. 

She threw her arms around Donna’s neck. “Donna! I’m from Mars!” she laughed. She felt so light, and _joyful_ , for the first time in ages. She felt Donna smile against her cheek.

“Donna Noble,” she sighed. “My best friend.” 

She pulled back, but she kept her hands on Donna’s shoulders. Donna was looking at her with a strange combination of confusion and affection. “What?” the Doctor asked.

Donna giggled. “You fancied me back then? I never knew.” 

The Doctor’s eyes widened. She had no idea how Donna even saw that. She could feel herself going red as she ran through a myriad of things she could say. _Not really like that, not all the time. I think I was lonely and I didn’t know how to cope._

Or she could just tell that truth. That when she lost Donna it felt like she lost one of her hearts, and she had no idea, _no idea_ , how much she could miss her voice, her laugh, her eyes, her extraordinary care. She did a lot of things she regretted then, after she lost Donna. 

Instead she just said: “Yeah, well. You’re a hard person not to fancy.” 

Donna smirked. “I know,” she said. And then, to the Doctor’s immense shock, Donna leaned in and kissed her. 

The Doctor lunged forward and kissed back with as much passion and energy and she could muster. She reached out and ran her fingers through Donna’s soft hair. She wanted to prove to Donna that she screwed up but she still cared about her, she cared about her so much, and she wanted the chance to show her. 

Donna gently broke the kiss. She gave the Doctor a wistful smile. “I don’t forgive you, you know,” she said. 

The Doctor just nodded. That was as it should be, she thought. She didn’t forgive the Time Lords for what they did to her, either. 

“Yeah,” the Doctor whispered. Her voice was a tiny thing, a fraction of a fraction of itself. “I know.” 

She expected Donna to walk away, or set the vortex manipulator for wherever it was they were going next. But Donna just opened her arms, and the Doctor collapsed into them.

Donna chuckled, and the low sound reverberated through the Doctor’s chest. The Doctor sighed deeply, happy to take any comfort that Donna had to offer. 

“Do you have a friend to go back to?” Donna asked quietly.

The Doctor nodded into Donna’s collarbone. She thought back to Donna’s foiled wedding, the temporary goodbye they said in the snow, and what Donna asked her to do: _find someone_. “Friends,” she corrected happily. “Ryan, Yaz, and Graham. You can come meet them if you like, I think you’d all really get on.” 

Donna looked out to the water again. It occurred to the Doctor it was probably not a great idea. How could she explain who Donna was when she wasn’t certain herself? How could she tell them what happened to Donna, what she did to Donna, and expect them to come with her ever again. 

“When and where are they?” Donna asked, shaking the edge of the sarong and gesturing for the Doctor to get up. Donna tied the sarong back around her waist, and then removed the vortex manipulator from her wrist. 

The Doctor rocked back and forth on her heels. So this was it. For now, at least. “Sheffield, 2020.” 

“2020, really?” Donna’s eyebrows jumped to her hairline. The Doctor had a vague recollection of something big happening that year, but it was Ryan, Yaz’s, and Graham’s present. Couldn’t be that bad. “If you say so,” Donna said. She put the coordinates in and then handed the vortex manipulator off to the Doctor. 

The Doctor frowned. “You’re not coming with me?” 

Donna came closer to her and secured the vortex manipulator to her wrist. The Doctor breathed in. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to leave Donna. 

“I can call an Uber,” Donna joked. And the Doctor could see in her eyes—that was all she could say. The Doctor only hoped the person who was traveling with her now was a good friend to her. 

“See you again sometime?” the Doctor asked, waiting for some kind of reassurance. _Count on it, spaceman. You better believe it, spaceman. Not if I see you first._

But all she said was: “Goodbye, spaceman.” 

Doctor turned to look out at the sea. Still just salt and magnesium, same as an ocean on Earth. She wasn’t any closer to knowing where she was. 

Which could mean that she was dreaming,

The howling, screaming wind came back, nearly blowing the Doctor off her feet in a gust of icy air. This time, she listened close to make out what it was saying.

It was the Ood song of freedom. So loud it was almost unrecognizable, but that’s what it was. Carried from the wind of the Oodsphere and out into the universe. 

Either that, or it was echoing in her exhausted, trapped mind. 

“Only one way to find out,” the Doctor said under her breath. She told herself not to look back at Donna; she just had to trust that whatever happened would happen as it needed to. The Ood's song was still wailing on the wind. 

She activated the vortex manipulator, and all of the past and all of the future rushed up to meet her.


End file.
